


Best Person

by MarieQuiteContrarie (SeaStar1330)



Series: Cufflinks [4]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV), Rumbelle - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Office, Cufflinks, Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Jealousy, Miscommunication, Multi, bunch of dorks right here, office shenaningans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-21
Updated: 2019-03-21
Packaged: 2019-11-27 07:45:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18191726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SeaStar1330/pseuds/MarieQuiteContrarie
Summary: When Ruby delivers a huge vase of red roses to Gold's office, he believes it's a romantic gesture meant for Belle--his new fiancée! Little does he know, Regina and David are competing to stand up in the wedding on the groom’s side of the aisle.





	Best Person

**Author's Note:**

> Some silly shenanigans for the Cufflinks verse because Gold is such a sweet dork who doesn't understand the concept of friendship. One day I bought flowers and the little food packet said 13 roses were for a secret admirer and this whole, ridiculous idea was born.
> 
> Thanks to galactic-pirates my lovely beta and to maplesyrup for some of these fun ideas!

“Thirteen roses.” Ruby Lucas sailed into his office and plopped a huge vase of flowers smack in the center of his desk.  
  
Gold looked up from the presentation notes he was reviewing and frowned.  
  
“Miss Lucas, do you mind?” he asked, waving in Belle’s direction. She was perched in one of the guest chairs across from his desk, her head bent over her own set of notes.

Belle raised her chin, her eyes flashing with mirth. “Be nice,” she mouthed, then blew him a kiss. Her fingertips were stained with gloss from her lips and left little pink finger smudges on the papers in her other hand.

A flush crept up his neck while he thought about all the wonderful things that mouth and those hands had done to him last night.  
  
“I don’t mind at all.” Ruby was talking again, reminding him she was still watching. “My desk is in the neighborhood.”  
  
“Yes, well.” He cleared his throat and flicked his wrist, pointing toward the door again. Maybe she would take the hint and leave. “We’re working.”  
  
Ruby flashed a sly smile. “I don’t remember a presentation slide about weekend plans with Belle and her parents.”

His attention settled on the flowers again—a heavy crystal vase stuffed with plump red roses. Dread began to churn in his stomach.  
  
“She has a point, Darach,” Belle said.  
  
“What?” Gold could see Belle’s mouth moving but he couldn’t focus.

A more pressing problem than Ruby’s nosiness had presented itself in the form of the vase occupying most of the outer portion of his desk. He leaned forward in his chair to glower at the stunning crimson blooms. They still had dew on them. How disgustingly cliché. He recognized the florist’s tag—the flowers had been ordered from her parents’ shop. He’d bought arrangements there many, many times over the last year. The person who had sent these knew quality.  
  
But _he_ hadn’t arranged for flowers to be delivered to Belle today. Had he missed some important date? She wasn’t ill, it wasn’t her birthday, and if she’d been promoted he would have been the first to know.  
  
Which left Gold with only one question: who would dare send a romantic arrangement to Belle French? She was engaged. To him. Jealousy curdled in his belly. Granted, he had asked for Belle’s hand only a few weeks ago, but couldn’t they enjoy their engagement for five minutes before he had to fend off applications for replacement suitors?  
  
Did people even send wedding objections in the form of flowers? He’d never heard of such a thing, but he wasn’t up on the latest in social non-graces. Later, when Ruby Lucas wasn’t watching his every move like a cat tracking a ball of yarn, he would ask Belle.  
  
“Thirteen roses. Really?” Ever curious, Belle leaned forward to stroke one of the blood-red petals.  
  
“We all know what that means,” Ruby announced.

Before he could inform them that no, _everyone_ did not know, they were hooting and shouting “secret admirer!”  
  
“Someone has quite a crush!” Belle whistled and beamed at him.  
  
Belle’s delight was an unpleasant surprise. He didn’t see anything funny or charming about this situation, yet here she was, less than flustered to be receiving a romantic overture three weeks after she’d agreed to be his wife. Perhaps he was oversensitive but her casual attitude stung a bit.  
  
And he intended to discuss it with her like an adult—if Ruby ever left the room. He clenched his jaw while he waited, but Ruby was oblivious to his tension. She leaned over the arrangement to inhale the blossoms.

 “Mmmm.” Ruby’s face lit in an appreciative smile.  
  
“I wonder who sent them.” Belle gnawed her lower lip the way she always did when she was mulling something over and his heart fluttered in spite of himself.  
  
“There’s a card.” Ruby pointed out.  
  
Belle turned to him before she plucked the small white envelope from amongst the stems. “May I, darling?”  
  
“Valentine’s Day is over.” He reclined in his chair with a huff. “But please,” he said, pretending to be magnanimous. “I wouldn’t dream of spoiling your fun.”  
  
“Some people celebrate love all the time,” Ruby offered. “Or send arrangements just because. A person doesn’t need an excuse to send flowers.”  
  
“Thank you for your observation, Miss Lucas. I’m sure commercial gardeners and florists across the globe appreciate your concern for their economic welfare. Now then, don’t you have some work to do?” He would rather his insecurities over Belle’s secret admirer not be fodder for office gossip.  
  
“This weekend when we were all having dinner together I was Ruby. How quickly they forget.” She grinned at Belle like he was a small child who had said something clever.  
  
Gold sighed. As a rule, he’d never mixed business and pleasure with anyone except Belle. But Ruby was Belle’s best friend and getting along with her was important. At least he didn’t dislike her. Ruby was sharp, hardworking, and a wonderful support system for Belle. Plus, Regina was always after him to be more sociable with the team no matter how much he resisted. Time and again he’d told her people wanted a leader they could respect, not someone who would take them bowling and host a Jell-O shot contest.

Whatever the hell that was.  
  
He coughed. “Don’t you have some work to do, _Ruby_?”  
  
“All caught up, boss. I think you’re going to be very happy with the press turnout for the new juice bar tomorrow.”  
  
“Fantastic,” he muttered. Pitching to the media, not subtlety, was Ruby’s area of expertise.  
  
The two women leaned over the flowers with an identical, fanatical gleam in their eyes. What was it about females and plant life? Perhaps it was the same as it was with women and shoes—a veritable mystery to the male mind.  
  
He busied himself with stacking the papers on his desk and slapped them against the surface with more force than necessary.  
  
Belle opened the small white envelope and read the card. “They’re from David Nolan.” She squealed. “How sweet!”  
  
“Sweet?” Gold dropped the papers he was holding and stood. He grabbed for his cane, his fingers squeezing reflexively around the handle. In less than a second he had rounded the desk. Belle and Ruby both stared at him with wide eyes, but he had already slid way down the ladder of reason.  
  
“What the hell is Nolan doing sending flowers to _my_ fiancée?” he bellowed. “He’s married! You’re engaged.”  
  
He’d thought David was his friend. Perhaps not a close friend, but an acquaintance at least. The bastard had crossed a line. No, the line was a million miles behind, back in hell, where he was going to send him.  
  
“Darling, stop,” Belle said. She gave his shoulder a loving squeeze. “You’re going to break your fingers.”  
  
He slid away from her touch and cursed. “No, I’m going to break _his_ fingers. Or”—he crushed his palm against the head of his cane—“maybe I’ll start with something else first. Something he’ll need if he ever wants to father any children!”

Intent on his prey, he stalked to the office door. But Belle was quicker. She ducked under his arm and stood in the doorway.  
  
“Wait. Wait!” She shut the door.  
  
“Why should I?” He crossed his arms. She was the one who thought the flowers were _sweet._ It hurt more than he wanted to admit.  
  
“Those flowers aren’t for me, Darach.” Her smile was patient, understanding.  
  
“Who the hell are they for then?”   
  
“They’re for you, Gold,” Ruby said. “Why do you think I brought them to your office?”

* * *

“Hey, Gold! Wait up.” David Nolan chased him down the hallway and fell in step beside him.

He gave the cover of his pocket watch a meaningful glance. He was due in the conference room in five minutes and he abhorred lateness, especially when he was meeting a client.

“You get the flowers?” David asked.

“Yes.”

“Too much?”

“Yes.”

“Shit.” David was walking fast to keep up, a white paper sack swinging between his fingers. “I knew red was the wrong color. “I should have gone with yellow, right? For friendship?”

He didn’t care, especially after the way he’d embarrassed himself this morning in front of Belle and Ruby. But Nolan looked so damned hurt by the brush-off he felt bad. He slowed his pace.

Gold imagined his future father-in-law trimming and watering his beauties in the cooler, one of his deep, rumbling belly laughs frosting the glass. Still, he found it hard to believe Maurice or Colette would commit such a faux pas as sending red roses from a married man to their daughter’s fiancé.

“Who answered the phone at the florist’s?” he asked.

“Anna,” David said, an expression of relief crossing his face. “I think she was new.”

He nodded. “Anna Bjorgman.”

“She didn’t give a last name.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Chattered and giggled so much you agreed to anything she suggested to get her off the line?”

David’s shrug was sheepish. “How’d you know?”

“That’s Anna. I met her at the Frenches’ house last week. She’s their new intern.”

In ten more steps, they were standing in front of the conference room where client James Midas was already waiting. David loomed in the doorway, barring Gold’s entrance. Blocking him from going places was becoming epidemic today. He would accept it from Belle, but not from this lummox.

“We’ve arrived at my destination,” he said, then tapped the floor with his cane, impatient.

“Right. Here.” Nolan thrust the paper bag at his chest.

Gold peeked inside. “It’s a blueberry bagel.”

“Your favorite, right?”

It was, but his breakfast of choice was beside the point. In the past few weeks, Nolan’s behavior had become increasingly strange. “What’s this all about, Nolan? First, you wash my car in the parking lot on your lunch hour, then you send flowers, now you’re following me around and buying me baked goods? This isn’t the way to ask for a raise.”

David huffed. “Why do you always assume anyone who talks to you or does something nice who isn’t Belle wants money?”

 _What else would they need from him?_ “Answer my question, Nolan.”

David shoved his hands in his pockets and took them out again. It was a nervous habit he fell back on whenever he was caught off-guard. “I just wondered if you’d given any thought yet to who would be your best man.” He toed the floor with his shoe. “You know, at the wedding.”  

Bewildered, Gold could only stare.

Last night, Belle told him wherever and whenever they tied the knot, Ruby would be her maid of honor. But he hadn’t given any thought to his attendants. Weddings were overpriced, overblown affairs. Whatever Belle wanted he would happily go along with but all he cared about was the honeymoon. Taking Belle on a tour of Europe and making love to her in as many cities as possible, now that was his idea of a party.

“I just proposed...Belle and I…it’s early to make plans,” he said, faltering.

Mary Margaret squeaked by to deliver Midas a mug of coffee, then nudged David on her way back down the corridor. She spoke to her husband out of the corner of her mouth. “Did you ask him yet?”

“Ask me what?” Just then, Midas met his eyes through the glass door and gave a little wave. Gold glanced at his watch again. “I’m late, Nolan. We’ll continue this conversation later…perhaps at a quarter to never.” He muttered the last words under his breath as he strode into the conference room.

“Midas, my apologies for keeping you waiting.” Gold set down the bag with the blueberry bagel to shake hands with one of the firm’s best and longest running clients.

“No trouble.” Midas stroked his golden beard. “Gave me time to think over my campaign, though if I didn’t know your distaste for politics I’d think I have competition in the race.”

Gold stopped nodding midstream. Midas was running for a state Senate position and the firm was assisting with public relations. “Competition?”

“I’d really like something like the billboard of you downtown.” Midas took an experimental sip of coffee.

Gold resisted the urge to loosen his collar. “What billboard?”

“‘What billboard’ he asks. Ha! You old dog!” Midas’ grin could have covered the broad side of a barn. “It’s the huge one in the center of town with your face and the slogan _The Magic Man._ Nice touch with the company logo. Tasteful design, too. Already offered my compliments to Regina.”

“Aha.” Gold flexed his fingers along the edge of the conference table, pretending for a fleeting moment it was Regina’s neck. “Regina’s talents are…without parallel.” _As is her unmitigated gall_ , he wanted to add. As soon as this meeting was over, he was going to drive to the square and see this monstrosity for himself. Then he would have it torn down with a wrecking ball.

Midas nodded with enthusiasm, seeming to be unaware of the bite in Gold’s words. “If you could put together a plan and design samples featuring something along those lines. Electronic too, if you would. Cost is no object.”

“I’d be delighted.” Gold forced a smile. He would put the pricing together and then he would bludgeon Regina with the enormous vase of red roses occupying half the real estate on his desk.

While Midas continued to share his ideas, a noise in the corridor drew Gold’s attention. The genius in question was standing in the corridor next to David, her swelling voice and wild gestures indicating a heated argument. Regina bared her teeth in a hiss, her hands on her hips.

This was not good. “Would you excuse me a moment, Midas?”

He hurried into the corridor.

“This figures,” Regina was saying, her lip curled in a sneer. “I knew the minute I turned my back you’d pull something like this.” She glared at David then turned to Gold. “Charming as he is, he’s the wrong one for the job. It’s the twenty-first century. Who says the best man has to be an actual man, anyway?”

David crossed his arms. “I was the one who pushed him to go talk to Belle last New Year’s Eve.”

“And I’m the one who hired Belle in the first place!” Regina insisted. “It’s  _my_ company. That office of Gold’s they’re always pretending not to have sex in exists because of me. He should choose me to be his best person!”

David snorted. “You always have to be in charge of the party, don’t you, Regina?”

“I  _am_  the party!” Regina bellowed.

They continued to bicker and Gold begged the ceiling for patience. This is what came of making a marriage proposal in the workplace—a team of lunatics expecting to be involved in all aspects of the wedding. Was he going to have to clear honeymoon destinations with them, too? Perhaps they wanted to join them on the trip? Why not plan a company cruise while they were at it?

Tonight he would beg Belle to elope and marry him as soon as possible.

But Regina was poking David in the chest and before he whisked Belle to Las Vegas or a justice of the peace, he had to stop these two before they initiated a wrestling match in the middle of the hallway. Belle was so much better at dealing with people—preserving feelings, soothing ruffled feathers, breaking bad news to interfering idiots with such finesse they didn’t even know they’d been handled and shown the door.

He was about to text her for help when his phone buzzed with a message. It was Belle. He scanned the text then pocketed his phone with a weary sigh. “My office. Now.”

He ushered Regina and David inside and slammed his door with a snarl. “For fuck’s sake! This is insane.”

“Cursing is evidence of a lazy mind, Gold.” Regina wagged a finger at him.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!” he shouted.

They both snapped their mouths shut and stared, two sets of eyes as wide as the blueberry bagel Nolan had given him. The few employees talking outside his door scurried out of sight. A hush blanketed the office and only the mild whirr of the copy machine broke the strained silence.

“Is this a place of business?” he asked them.

“Of course it’s a business,” Regina said. “ _My_ business.” She flashed a tight, red-lipped smile and elbowed David in the side.   
  
“Mine, mine, mine!” David parroted, rubbing his ribs.

“Very well, Your Majesty.” Gold offered her a mocking bow. “In between the two of you commissioning me new suits, buying Belle shares in a publishing house, and all these other outlandish gestures, can we all agree that my wedding and Belle’s is _our_ business?”

More reluctant nods from Nolan. Regina rolled her eyes, but she allowed a single sharp nod to communicate her understanding.

“Good. Then as we’re running a marketing firm and not a wedding planning service, perhaps interviewing potential groomsmen—” he caught the narrowing of Regina’s eyes—“groomspeople, can wait?”

“Yes,” they grumbled in unison.

He plucked a file from his desk, intent on returning to the meeting with Midas. “Let’s get back to work.”

“It’s just…” Regina trailed off.

Dammit, he’d almost made it to freedom. “What?” He paused with his back to her, his hand hot on the doorknob.

“You’re my oldest friend,” she said softly.

 _Oh._ He released the doorknob and turned to face them.

David was slouched against the edge of his desk, looking like a kicked puppy. “When you asked my advice about Belle at the New Year’s Eve party last year, I thought we’d become friends.”

Nolan had offered the advice unsolicited, but as it had worked in his favor and he’d won the girl, now didn’t seem like the best time to point it out.

Regina and David bowed their heads, reminding him of fighting children who’d been separated on the school playground. And guilt began to dislodge his anger.

He could hear Belle telling him as misguided as their behavior was, it didn’t give him the right to be cruel. _Shit._  Being in love was turning him into a decent human being.

“The truth is you’re the best person I know,” Regina said. “All I want…” David cut her off with a meaningful cough. “All _we_ want _,_ ” Regina amended, “is for you to be happy.”

David’s grin was boyish. “That’s it exactly.”

All at once, the ridiculous billboard, the extravagant gifts, and all the attention they were paying him began to make sense. They were trying to be his friend.  

Fresh out of snappy retorts, he sucked on the inside of his cheek. Until Belle had opened her heart and offered him her love, no one had cared about his happiness. Suddenly, friendships were more than an abstract concept in his world, something he could sneer at and pretend he didn’t need. It seemed he had friends of his own, rather than people who accepted him because he was Belle’s tagalong. It was a bit overwhelming.

David looked to be moving in for a hug. Oh, dear God, he needed to leave before he hugged him back or burst into tears.

“We’ll discuss this later.” He threw the promise over his shoulder and bolted for the door. One small olive branch was the best he could do.

“So we can expect a decision about your best person by the end of the day, then?” Regina called to his retreating back.

He grunted as he rounded the corner and scuttled toward the conference room, reclaiming his chair at the table.

“Say, Gold,” Midas said. “Heard from David Nolan you’re getting married. Congratulations! Regina’s baking the wedding cake?”

 _Idiots._ He smothered a smile. Something had to be done if he wanted even a moment’s peace. There was nothing for it, he supposed.

He would ask them both to be in the wedding.

###

**Author's Note:**

> What did you think of these absolute dorks?


End file.
